Essence in Reminiscence
by YukiSkye
Summary: England remembers a time when America was still young and how hard it was to let him go.


Yep so I made a fanfic that isn't about One Piece. Gasp of surprise! This time I made one of Hetalia! It's one of the best things I've ever seen in my life! But one of the things that stood out the most was young America and England so I made a fanfic in tribute to them.

**Summary:** England remembers when America wasn't the world's greatest country and their parting of ways.

* * *

Oftentimes, England caught himself staring at America.

It wasn't an important reason why though (really) but he sometimes felt this sense of longing tight in his chest.

On those rare occasions America took off his glasses to clean them with his shirt (really he thought he raised him better than that), he would get a sudden flashback to that lonely little boy out in the wilderness all by himself. It was still so fresh in his mind despite the years that went by.

The large expanse of endless sky blue eyes, hair that were like threads of sunlight, and an innocent round face that broke into a wide beam whenever he caught sight of him.

"Yay! England! England!"

He missed that chant in a childish voice and adoration on his face. He missed having him under his wing.

But England remembered. It's all he had left after all. He remembered the sound of the tall grass against the wind, the heat from the sun shining through a few puffy clouds, and him, walking home with America in his arms. America, who chose poor England who had nothing to offer, to France who was probably way better off.

And the first warning appeared when America managed to swing a buffalo around.

Afterwards, England managed to build a small simple wooden home. It wasn't really impressive but America seemed to love it.

A few weeks and England was already so attached and loved the child.

"America! I'm ho-"

He hadn't even gotten the word out when a small bundle of America jumped into his arms.

"England!"

"America! Haven't I told you not to do that?" he scolded but didn't drop the child.

Kicking the door closed, he walked into the living room and put down America.

"So what have you been up to all day?"

America huffed and jumped up in England's lap who gave a small 'Oof!'

"I was bored all day!" the child whined. "So I sat by the window to wait for you but you're sooo slow! So I fell asleep."

England smiled at the pouting America and ruffled his locks. "So you haven't eaten anything since breakfast?"

Right on cue, the young country's stomach gave an aggravated growl.

England laughed and put America, who looked annoyed, on the floor.

"It's not my fault you were so slow!"

"Alright I'll make something to eat."

A few minutes later and England had a plate of… something in his hand.

"America! Where are you?"

He walked from the doorway to the table just in time to look up to see a hammer flying straight towards him and the rest was history.

The next few days were spent with a hysterical America who cried every time he caught sight of England's cast. Despite his reassurance to the frantic child, America would not stop thinking he hates him. Luckily, he had stopped sobbing but now, America was much more tentative with him, asking permission for everything he did.

England didn't know what to make of this or how to get him to revert back to his old self. He didn't want to see America wallow in his guilt because really, how can he stay mad at him? It's not like the incident was on purpose.

So, the next day, he ordered for some custom made soldiers and gave it to America.

"I can really have this!?" the child exclaimed with excitement.

~*~Theessenceofreminiscing...~*~

It has been weeks now since England last visited America.

He often wondered and worried about him but things were keeping him too busy to visit him. Even if he did find the time, he'd only be able to visit briefly.

But he wanted to know if America was okay. The thought nibbled away at his thoughts until he resolved that no matter how short a visit, at least he'd get to see the child. Besides, France is seriously pissing him off.

"England! You came back!" came the joyous greeting and England smiled, feeling his frustrations wash away at the sight of cute America.

After a whole day spent together, it was time for England to leave again but was met by a vehemently protesting America.

"N… no! Don't go back! Being all alone in such a big place is scary! I'll be sad and lonely…"

The words made England's heart heavy for the crying boy.

So he made a promise to come back. He made a promise so he will have to come back.

The second warning came with the substantial growth of America.

True to his promises, England came back and froze when he saw a tall young man in the house. He stood there gaping and after getting over his initial shock, he managed to ask, "A-America?"

The blonde looked embarrassed.

"Is there something wrong?"

"N-no. I just… didn't expect you to grow that fast."

"Heh well you told me to do my best to become strong so I did!"

"Oh. Well I'm proud of you!"

Despite those words however, England felt his stomach tighten and his heart squeezed and a sense of foreboding taking over. Somehow he can't stop feeling so lonely again…

~*~istorealizethetruth~*~

One morning, England noticed that America seemed to have gone outside.

_Oh well I guess I'll go look around his house more thoroughly. Not snooping of course!_

And so he spent the day looking through what kind of food America ate, his trinkets, and wardrobe.

_I need to get America some decent clothes,_ England noted to himself, wrinkling his nose at the… _mess would be the only word to describe it._

He looked out the window and saw that it was already dark outside.

_Where's America?_

He waited. And waited. And waited some more.

As the seconds ticked by, England grew more and more worried and felt slightly panicked.

_W-what if he…_ kept running through his head until finally, he put on a coat and slammed the door open… only to come face to face with a beaten up America.

"America!"

England quickly pulled the blonde in, who stumbled a bit, and forced him down on a chair.

"What happened to you?" he asked as he scrambled around to get so medical supplies.

"Oh. It's nothing really. I just…" America seemed to hesitate.

"Just what?" England egged on, examining the bruises.

"Got into a fight with France."

The elder of the two froze.

France.

The very word made his blood boil and his stomach churn.

France was trying to oust them from the land and to top it all off, he had gone and beaten up America.

_Well… if that's how you want to play…_

~*~andtoknow~*~

After the battle was over, he became a bit stricter with America fearing that another incident just like that would take place.

"Don't go further than those mountains," or "Sorry America but I'm afraid…" became England's sayings.

Eventually one day, America walked up to him and said, "England, I think we should part."

England felt the world slow and stop.

"Part?"

America looked down at his shoes.

"Yeah I mean… while we were fighting France… I looked at you and realized how different we both were… And now you're giving me all these restrictions and I can't take them anymore."

Wait… So America… is going to leave him? Just like that? After everything?

England gave a firm answer. "No."

America's head shot up and looked at him with wide eyes.

"W-why not? I mean look at all the things you make me do! Isn't this too harsh? I can take care of myself!" America argued.

"Absolutely not! You think you can make it on your own? Just because you've shot up a few feet doesn't mean you'd stand a chance against other countries! You're still too weak!"

"But you're not even giving me a chance! How would you know?"

"I've got more experience than you do! So live another few hundred years before you talk to me about this again!"

America stormed towards the front door and grasped the knob.

"I thought you'd understand but I've never been more wrong!"

And it slammed shut leaving England standing in the suffocating silence and loneliness.

~*~timeshavechanged~*~

A few months later, a Declaration of Independence was sent.

England stared at the piece of paper and buried his face in his hands.

Oh god what will he do? He felt so torn.

Half of him felt so betrayed. He had only wanted America to be safe. They could have just talked it out. There was no reason to break away.

But on the other hand… maybe buried deep inside, he knew… it was time to let go.

Shaking away those thoughts he slammed his hands on the desk and stood up.

No. He will not leave just like that. If America wanted independence, he will have to prove his worth and his ability to survive in the unrelenting world that was economics and politics.

He moved from the chair and donned on his red coat.

~*~forbetterorforworse~*~

It was raining. How typical.

They were finally face-to-face. One-to-one.

"Hey England, I will choose liberty after all."

England felt a few tears slip through and thanked the rain for hiding them.

"Acknowledge it!"

Hearing him say those words fueled his hidden anger.

_Have all I've done for you meant nothing at all?!_

England rammed his bayonet hard at America, injuries be damned, and managed to knock his musket out of his hands.

_Fool. You fool. _

He had him at his mercy. He pointed the sharp metal at America. Just one bullet was all it took or a quick jab. Just one…

His mind flashed back to that small sweet boy asking if he could sleep with him for the night after reading a scary book.

Where? Where was he?

_I-I can't do this. I can't do this!_

He gazed at the young man. There. There he is. No longer a boy.

He dropped his weapon and crumpled to the ground, crying freely now.

_Why? Why why why! How'd it get to this? How did this happen?_

America no longer needed his protection. The thought that he didn't _need_ him anymore hurts. It _hurts_ so damn _much._

There was a long pause.

"You used to be… so big…" America said, his voice cracking just slightly.

_Yes I was, wasn't I? But… you've managed to outshine me and won against me. Yes. I will acknowledge it. You're big enough now._

A few more minutes of suffocating silence and England finally stood up. He glanced over at the blonde youth.

He wanted to say something but he wasn't sure if his voice would break so instead, he turned around and walked away. Away from the man he raised.

He only wanted what was best for America. He used to think he would never make it alone. Despite his amazing growth, America was still relatively new. Without his support, surely he would collapse. And England will be back on his side again and back in his life.

But he didn't.

He stumbled, tripped, got into a few fights, and fell severely ill a couple times but he never fell. Now, he was a world power.

It pains England to admit but America really didn't need his help. He still felt a bit bitter about it though. Letting go was the hardest thing he had ever had to face. Even harder than the fights he got with France.

But America has grown and he knew it was bound to happen. He saw the potential of the child and his goal, really, was to help him reach it.

America did reach out for it and embraced it.

And England knew letting go was the best thing he could have done.

* * *

**A/N:** Sigh... My heart just ripped in two when I saw the parts with England and young America. Also, I added some historical hints here and if you picked them up, you're a smart cookie!

France beating up America was the French and Indian War in which England and France fought over some land. Afterwards was the end of salutary neglect where England started meddling in America's affairs again after a long period of time where it has been left alone. The Proclamation of 1763 forbade anybody from going west of the Appalachian Mountains because of Indians then the taxes and war. Actually, the part about England being torn wasn't far from the truth. The Whigs, who were part of Parliament were actually cheering for American independence xD

If you've read up to this part, you either like history or just read it out of boredom. Well cya later!


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